


Style One Shots That Y’all Deserve

by Ros3mary



Category: South Park
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-08-24 18:48:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16645769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ros3mary/pseuds/Ros3mary
Summary: A collection of (mostly) fluffy one shots.





	1. Are You Playing?

Stan couldn’t really help himself when his mind wandered. Especially around Kyle. It wasn’t his fault that his best friend was so mesmerizing, so distracting. It wasn’t his fault that Kyle’s curled hair floated in a red halo around his head, ringlets bouncing with hypnotizing movements when he threw his head back and laughed. It wasn’t his fault that Kyle’s emerald green eyes twinkled in frustratingly captivating ways when he got angry, or happy. And it certainly wasn’t his fault when a particularly fluid movement of his pale fingers near Stan’s made his thoughts less than appropraite.

At least, that was what Stan told himself while he spent ridiculous times letting himself be distracted. 

Kyle let out a laugh, ending with his usual little post-laugh sigh, and Stan felt his heart beat a little faster. His eyes wandered around Kyle’s frame, and he let himself imagine pressing it into the couch, pulling slender form flush against his own, lips soft against his, hands tangled in curly red hair and legs hopelessly entangled with-

“Dude, you’ve been standing there for like ten minutes.”

Stan jumped, feeling heat rush to his face. He blinked, trying to look innocent while his heart pounded in his chest. 

“Oh.” He cast his eyes in the direction of the tv, crudely split in two screens. He was on top. The thought, careless, made him shift around, flushing. “Yeah, I got bored.”

”Am I more interesting to look at?” Kyle said with a smug little smile.

 _Yes. Kyle, fuck yes, I could stare at you for hours, you have no idea-_ “Was I looking at you? Sorry, I was spaced out.” Stan said with an air of indifference. 

“Oh, okay. Well, are you still playing?” 

“Yeah.” Stan managed, forcing his attention to his half of the screen.

After a few minutes of gameplay, Kyle said something about zombies or the like, and Stan felt helpless against himself as he turned to watch.

Kyle tilted his head in concentration, a red ringlet falling to frame his pale face. Stan’s heart went  _tha-thump._

He watched Kyle’s slender fingers maneuver the joysticks, clenching around the controller as his character took a hit. Stan would love to see those fingers clench around his- 

 _No,_ no, no. He wasn’t going there. 

Kyle groaned as his character died, (Stan’s had died a while ago, he hadn’t been playing) and the screen flashed GAME OVER.

Kyle’s emerald eyes turned to Stan’s blue, and the boy unconsciously took in a deep breath. 

“Dude! Are you playing?”

”Uhm... yeah.” Stan lied. It felt fake, and Kyle obviously caught on this, raising a single eyebrow.

God, Stan loved it when he did that. 

“Really?”

Stan wrinkled his nose, putting his controller down and shifting around in his seat on the couch. “Yeah, sure I am.” He said, trying to be more convincing.

Kyle looked at the screen. “It sure doesn’t seem like it. I don’t know if you noticed, but your kill count for sixteen rounds is twelve.”

The noirette licked his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Ha, uhm-“

”Dude. If you don’t want to play anymore, just say it.”

”I don’t want to play anymore.”

Kyle sighed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t look surprised. He unfolded his legs from the couch and turned off the Xbox and tv. “Fine.” He said when he was done. “What do you want to do?”

Stan was up in a heartbeat, crossing the short distance between them to stand in front of Kyle. He was a few inches taller, and he let his hand wander up to play with Kyle’s hair. He smiled fondly. “You get shorter every time I see you.”

Kyle scowled, swatting his friend’s hand away. “Stop it, asshole. I’m serious, what do you want to do?”

Stan bit his inner cheek, stepping away. He turned around and walked for the stairs, not trusting himself to be near Kyle and also not kiss him senseless at the same time. “I need to piss. Put on Shane Dawson or something, let’s get scared.” 

He couldn’t see it, but he knew Kyle was smiling. The redhead loved watching conspiracy theories, letting himself get scared by the most likely untrue stories. Stan loved it, too, but because of the way Kyle cuddled up to him when getting particularly scared.

As Stan walked up the stairs of the house he knew better than his own, he smiled.

_One of these days, Kyle, I’m going to kiss you till you can’t breathe, like the fag I am. Just let me man up a little more. ~~~~_


	2. New Year, New Me

“Why do we even still celebrate New Year’s? Every year is just getting shittier.” Stan complained loudly, stretched out on his super best friend’s Terrance and Phillip bedsheets. 

Kyle hushed him, stared at his phone for a minute longer, then threw it down and grabbed the previously packed duffel bag. He dragged a reluctant Stan to his feet and threw open his bedroom door. “C’mon,” He said. “It’s gonna be midnight in an hour, and the adults are probably already wasted.”

The redhead suppressed a smile at Stan’s muffled protests, knowing that the noirette wouldn’t break tradition.

Every New Year’s since fourth grade the two had snuck away with an armful or beer, sitting on the roof of City Wok away from the trashed adults below. They were going on seven years now, sophomores. 

As the two walked through the garbage-strewn streets, Stan’s hand found Kyle’s and held it openly. Kyle’s stomach did a flip and he had to remind himself that Stan’s affections were purely platonic. 

Somewhere in the distance Randy Marsh was singing about change. More importantly, having sex with it.

Beside him, Stan put pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Why does he have to use love songs?” He groaned.

”How do you bang a concept?” Kyle mused, looking thoughtful. Stan looked at his expression and laughed. 

“How should I know?” Stan said. “That was a good song, too, before he ruined it.”

Kyle shrugged. “I’ve never seen the appeal of love songs.”

Stan glanced sideways at him, blue eyes seeming apologetic.  _What does he have to be sorry for?_ Kyle thought irritably.

”Maybe if you had someone special to sing them to you, you’d feel differently.” Stan said, still looking at Kyle.

Kyle shrugged flippantly, staring dead ahead. He didn’t respond, because he knew the only person that could make a love song special to him was standing right next to him, holding his hand as if it were the most casually platonic thing he could’ve done. 

 

Kyle crossed his ankles, leaning back on his palms. “It’s nicer up here,” He said. “You can hardly hear the stupid adults below.”

Stan smiled, sitting criss-cross applesauce besides Kyle. His hand was in Kyle’s lap, rubbing circles on his thigh.

It infuriated him.

“It’s eleven fifty three. Quick, make your New Year’s wish.”

“I wish to have the courage to ask my crush out.” Stan said nonchalantly. 

Kyle gasped at him. “You have a crush!” He shoved back his feelings of petty jealousy and betrayal. “Spill. Now.”

Stan smiled smugly at Kyle, shrugging. “Maybe I will. If my wish comes true.”

”Ugh, I have to wait? That’ll take ages.”

Stan hummed and said nothing, staring at the moon.

Kyle pushed Stan’s hand out his lap and scooted away, sick of the pangs of longing that rang in his chest.

The noirette looked at him with mild alarm, making Kyle want to cry. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

”Nothing’s wrong.”

”Bullshit.” Stan got up on his knees in front of Kyle, cupping the redhead’s chin in his hand to force him to face him. “I can tell something’s wrong.”

Kyle bit his cheek. His skin burned where Stan touched him, and he wanted nothing more than to inch over the space between them and fold into Stan’s chest. 

“Come on, dude.” Stan said. “You can tell me.”

Kyle shook his head, grabbing Stan’s hand and turning his face away. His stubborn act of defiance only served to make him feel childish and weak. “I can’t.” 

He felt Stan shift, and squeezed his eyes closed.

”It’s midnight.” Stan breathed. “Kyle-“

Suddenly Kyle felt lips on his, and he gasped against Stan’s mouth, staring at Stan’s closed eyes. When the noirette pulled away, Kyle was left gasping and senseless, emerald eyes large as dinner plates.

”Kyle, you don’t know half as much as you think you do.” Stan said with a chuckle, putting his hands into Kyle’s and turning to watch the fireworks.

Kyle had never started a new year so perfectly. 


	3. Cherry Ring Pop

Stan tugged a very reluctant Kyle by the hand, crossing trough a kitchen that had once seemed so much bigger. The sliding door at the end opened with a soft whizz as Stan pushed it to the side. 

Kyle was still griping behind him.  _"We don't have time for this, we need to unpack, what are you doing, Stan, are you even listening?"_ and the like. Stan finally released his hand in favor of stuffing cold hands into his sweatshirt's pocket. His finger brushed soft leather and the coil of anxiety in his gut tugged sharply.

The noirette smiled at the Broflovski back yard. It still looked the same as when Stan was ten, seventeen years later. Kyle's parents had just moved out, and sold the property to both their son and his boyfriend at a low price. They had both chipped in, and it was theirs.

Stan shivered, inhaling the cold Colorado air. He admired the watery winter sunlight as he thought, and how it made the white snow gleam like nothing else. 

Buying the house, and living in it together, had been a big step of commitment; especially because the two weren't even engaged. They had been living with each other in a shared apartment since high school gradation, though, and dating before that. So maybe not that big of a step. Besides, the engagement problem could always be fixed.

"We have stuff to unpack," Kyle complained, again. "The moving truck isn't gonna be here all day. What are we doing out here?"

_Go time._

"Do you remember," Stan started, turning around to face Kyle. "in second grade, when I proposed to you, right here, with a cherry ring pop?

"You said yes. You said yes, but only if you could eat the ring pop. I was so young, I didn't know what it really meant - I didn't know what love was, or that I loved you. But I knew that it looked like your hair, and cherry was your favorite flavor, and red was your favorite color. I knew, in a sense, that marriage meant spending your whole life with someone. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you." Stan's voice dropped a notch. His hand closed around the tiny leather box in his pocket. "I still do."

Then he dropped to one knee in the snow, and pulled out the little leather box, and had the stupidest, most hopeful smile on his face. Kyle's hands flew to his mouth. His emerald eyes were watering. Looking at them, Stan rethought his earlier pondering. Of course the winter snow wasn't that bright - it was rivaled by Kyle's beautiful, wonderful eyes. 

Stan opened the box, revealing a gleaming silver band, with a diamond center stone surrounded by small rubies that looked like flowers.

"I know it's not cherry flavored," Stan said apologetically, "but I had a bit more of a budget this time."

"Oh my God," was all Kyle could breathe out; "Oh my God!"

"Kyle, will you marry me?"

Kyle's head bobbed yes. He was crying openly. "Yes," he said in a laughing, musical tone. "Oh my God, yes!" 

Stan's smile turned into a beam, relief and delight unfurling warm petals in his chest. His vision was blurry, but he slipped the silver ring onto Kyle's wedding finger when it was offered, and wasted no time in throwing his arms around Kyle. He peppered his Kyle's face with kisses before delving into a deep, loving one. 

They both pulled away slightly, their foreheads resting against the other's. 

"I love you so much." Stan whispered, rubbing the thumb that cupped Kyle's face over a rusty freckled cheek. "It's insane."

"I love you too," Kyle said softly. They were so close that Kyle's breath was warm near Stan's lips, and it made the noirette's mouth tug into an adoring smile. Then Kyle added with a chuckle, "Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Stan repeated incredulously. "You just said yes!"

Kyle's half-smirk cracked into a full, dimpled smile. "Already using that as leverage?"

"You know it." Stan said. He grabbed Kyle's left hand and they walked into the house, their house, fingers entwined. Every time the cold ring's metal brushed Stan's skin, the noirette could swear he felt his soul go to Heaven and back.


	4. Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On You

Kyle laughed at something Bebe said, hoping that was the right thing to do. It was, apparently, because Bebe smiled and continued with her story. Kyle had zoned out, and then focused so hard on focusing that he hadn't been able to focus. 

Bebe's story must have been interesting, because she was telling in animatedly, waving her hands around and her eyes lighting up. Kyle picked up a fork of food and chewed, clearing his mind briefly enough to listen.

"But then when I walk in, Wendy's in Token's bed, and she had told  _me,_ her best friend (and future wife), that nothing was happening between them! Can you believe-"

"Wait, hold on," Kyle said, holding up his hand. "Wendy cheated on Stan?"

"Stan?" Bebe gave a quizzical little laugh. "No, Wendy and Stan broke up like a year and a half ago. Like, eighth grade? Anyways, I have to leave, because they're all over each other, and,  _barf,_ yknow-"

Kyle zoned out again, a little frown creased between his eyebrows. Stan had been single for that long? Why didn't Kyle know? And more importantly, was he  _still_ single? 

"So, listen, I think we should discuss the next topic for debate club, since the meeting's Monday." Bebe said, getting slightly more serious after she got her valley girl story out of the way. That was how Bebe was, switching from an intellectual to a stereotypical popular girl like a flipped switch.

"Yeah," Kyle said, shaking off his thoughts. _Bebe now, Stan later._ He told himself, though admittedly his heart begged for  _Stan forever._ "I had some ideas on what we could do."

As Kyle let himself relax in Bebe's familiar presence, he started to enjoy himself, getting roped in by playful banter and inside jokes and easy conversation that Bebe provided.

He and Bebe were arguably as close as him and Stan. They had been hanging out more progressively for about a year, and although they spent casual time at each other's houses and such, Thursdays were still "date" night. Kyle had awkwardly told Bebe after the first 'date' that he was in love with someone, and Bebe seemed surprised, telling him she was, too, and they were just hanging out as friends. This had relieved Kyle immensely and with no expectations, he was himself around her, and vice versa. They became increasingly close, and Bebe told him on several occasions that Kyle was like a brother to her. He agreed wholeheartedly.

After only three months of close friendship, Kyle had confessed that he was madly in love with Stan, and Bebe confessed she was madly in love with Wendy. Kyle and Bebe were each other's gay best friend, in a sense.

After twenty, maybe thirty minutes of conversation, ten of which had been long after their food was gone, they split the check. While paying, a figure caught Kyle's eye, and he looked up discretely. A lone person three booths behind Bebe's shoulder was watching Kyle, wearing dark sunglasses and a ridiculous fake handlebar mustache. Kyle would have recognized the dark, swooped hair and the tan build from a hundred miles away. His mouth turned down.  _Seriously?_

"Thanks for the nice time, Kyle," Bebe said with an animated smile. That was one of the things Kyle loved about her - how lively she always was. She could lift anyone's spirits.

"'Course," Kyle said with a half-grin. Bebe pecked his cheek with her lips, not pressing too hard so her lip gloss wouldn't leave a mark. 

"See you," She said, waving at him as she left. Kyle returned the wave, and once she was out of sight Kyle sent the figure a meaningful glare before striding purposefully to the bathrooms, obviously expecting to be followed. Kyle couldn't see but knew that Stan would scramble out of the booth to do just so.

 

Kyle leaned over the sink, watching his reflection as he ran a hand through his slightly tamed auburn curls. The door, directly behind him, opened, and he saw Stan step in and close the door with his palms behind him, watched Stan tear off that stupid fake mustache and toss it away, tuck the sunglasses into his pocket. 

"Hey," Stan said awkwardly, fidgeting around. 

"Hi." Kyle said, stretching out the word in a mockingly angry tone. He lifted his chin, meeting the eyes of Stan's reflection. 

"So, um..."

"Cut the shit, Stan." Kyle said, turning to face Stan. "Why are you here?"

Stan blanched. "Were you enjoying your... date?" He struggled out, avoiding the question. He was wringing his fingers, and Kyle realized that he'd only seen Stan this nervous a few times in his lifetime. 

Kyle sighed, bracing his hands on the sink's counter and leaning against his palms. He didn't bother correcting Stan yet. "Yeah, I was. But it turns out there was some shit-eating asshead stalking me the whole time."

Stan chewed at his bottom lip, unintentionally bringing Kyle's attention there. Kyle licked his upper lip, and Stan's eyes followed the movement, though Kyle didn't see. "That's strong." He muttered.

"It's really not." Kyle shot at him. Idle anger stirred in his eyes, and he narrowed them. "When were you going to tell me that you broke up with Wendy? Two years? Three?"

Stan's eyes widened. Kyle would have savored the shocked expression if he could.

"Who's skirt are you chasing now? Were you ever going to tell me anything?"

Stan's fist clenched, and it finally dawned on Kyle how upset Stan really was. "Nobody's! And you're one to talk, you've been dating Bebe for so long and haven't breathed a word of it to me-"

"I'm not dating Bebe," Kyle snapped, and Stan stilled. 

"You're not?" His voice had lowered to a whisper, and it send chills skittering up Kyle's spine. 

"No. We're just friends." 

"But - but she kissed your cheek," Stan said, and he sounded so much like a wounded child - it tugged at Kyle's heartstrings, making him want to melt into Stan's arms and never let go. 

"Yeah, she's really motherly sometimes. It's kinda cute." Stan's expression turned simultaneously dark and wounded, and Kyle bit the inside of his mouth, hard. "Me and Bebe - we're just really good friends. We just hang out, and we tell each other the stuff we can't tell other people." Kyle sucked air through his nose and bit down hard on his tongue.  _Stupid, stupid._ He thought,  _stupid slip._

Stan looked similarly shocked, and upset. "What can't you tell me?" He asked, his voice cracking.

Kyle's eyes widened, and he ducked his head away quickly. "Nothing," He muttered, but the damage was done.

Stan was quiet for a few long moments that felt like hours, and suddenly he turned around and bolted out the door.

"Shit, Stan!" Kyle cursed, chasing after him. 

Stan made it halfway into the parking lot before Kyle caught him. "Stan, just wait a minute!"

"No," Stan said, trying to yank his wrist out of Kyle's hand. "If you're upset, you can just cry to Bebe, can't you?"

"Asshole," Kyle near-shouted. "Just listen to me!"

"No, fuck you, let go of me!"

Kyle realized suddenly that Stan's eyes were getting red, the way they did when Stan needed to bawl an artery out. He calmed somewhat, taken aback. "Stan," He said softly.

"What can't you tell me?" Stan demanded. He stopped trying to pull away and instead got closer, right up in Kyle's face. "What would you rather tell some blonde bitch?

A tiny part of Kyle wanted to say  _she's not a bitch,_ but the larger, more insistent part of him just wanted to weep with  _Stan._

"I can't tell you," Kyle half-sobbed. Now he was trying to pull away, trying to tug both of his wrists out of Stan's hands and run. 

"You  _can!_ Goddamn it, Kyle, what did I do to lose your trust?" Stan still sounded angry but his eyes were so, so sad.

"You don't want to know," Kyle tried to insist.

Stan got closer, their noses brushing, and Kyle folded his lips tight and trembled. "Of course I want to know, Kyle, I'd listen to everything to do with you if you'd just let me."

This sent Kyle toppling over the edge, falling so, so, so far down. Why did Stan have to be so sweet and perfect? Why did he have to know exactly where to poke and prod to get Kyle to tell him anything, everything, just to talk to him?

He felt angry again, at himself, mostly, because he knew he was about to lose Stan, that he was doing this to himself; and a little angry at Stan, for pushing Kyle this far. 

"What did you tell Bebe," Stan said, "that you won't tell me?" He didn't sound angry at all, just devastatingly distressed, and the crackly way his voice broke proved this. 

"That I'm in love with you, asshole!" Kyle shouted, making Stan recoil. It was at the volume, but hazy Kyle thought it was at the words. "That I'm so, fucking, madly in love with you, and I need you, and I'm going to lose you-" By the end of his talk his voice was shaky and cracking, and his vision blurred. 

Stan's thumb smoothed over his lips, and he was close again, so close their noses touched, and Stan's hands cupped Kyle's cheeks. The feather brushes of Stan's finger against Kyle's mouth quieted him instantly.

"I thought you were dating Bebe," Stan said. He looked uncertain and scared. "I was so, so jealous, I thought my insides had turned green." He chuckled but it sounded hollow. His brief smile slipped. "It tore me up inside for a year, knowing that every Thursday you were with her, when I wanted you to always be with me."

Kyle took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," Stan whispered, leaning closer and closer, until his lips caught whatever protest Kyle would have had, smoothing over any uncertainties, now, or ever, God,  _Stan._

Kyle melted into him, his hands moving up to clasp loosely behind the other's neck. Stan's tongue brushed at Kyle's lip and he opened his mouth almost instantly. When their tongues touched, it was like Heaven, lighting up every docile nerve and splashing the dark of Kyle's closed eyes with color, so bright it stung. He had kissed before, but it had never, ever, been like this. 

Stan pulled back, leaning his forehead against Kyle's and just breathing heavy. Somewhere along the line his hands had closed around Kyle's waist, and Kyle had been too distracted before with Stan's tongue to know how amazing his touch felt. 

"Wow," Stan mustered.

Kyle bit his lower lip. "Did you feel it too?" He whispered as softly as possible, as if scared Stan hadn't, or afraid to ruin such a thing.

"The colors? Yeah, God,  _wow._ "

Kyle felt giddy. A musical giggle bubbled past his lips, and when he finally gathered the courage to shyly meet Stan's amazingly sapphire eyes, he saw the noirette staring at him with such crippling intense adoration that Kyle swooned. Their chests were pressed together, and Kyle could feel Stan's heartbeat.

He decided in that moment there was nothing that could ever feel as good as being wrapped up in Stan's arms, with that steady reminder of his life, his presence, trapped between them.

"Kyle," Stan sighed, making an almost nuzzling movement to Kyle's nose. "I've waited so long to do that - to do this."

The very idea of Stan lusting after just holding Kyle drove the redhead insane. He hummed, still too dazed to give a proper response.

"I'm in love with you too, you know," Stan said. Kyle had guessed, from that kiss, but hearing it out loud made every cell in his body jump with ecstasy. 

Stan tilted his head to let their mouths brushed, whispered, "Sorry it took me so long," against Kyle's lips, and moved in slowly for another world-ending kiss.

No, not world-ending. World-creating.


	5. Night Before Christmas, And All Through The House...

Stan pulled out of his dream slowly, irritated by the insitant tapping from God knows where that forced him to leave the lull of sleep. He fought to shed his haze, groaning in protest as he rolled towards his window.

A bright light blinded him and he cried out, jerking his arm up to shield his face and bouncing into a sitting position. The light turned away and Stan peeked out, seeing a face pressed against the cold window. The face pulled away, satisfied that it had been seen, and Stan fumbled with the window’s locks. When the window slid open, the freezing mid-winter air rushed into Stan’s room, followed by the roll of really, really early morning fog. Stan was shivering almost instantly.

The open air revealed Kyle, gripping the sill, his feet balanced precariously on the house’s lining. He had climbed, apparently, to Stan’s two-story bedroom window. He had snow boots and a heavy coat on over pajamas, and his hat was nowhere to be seen, letting his bouncy red corkscrews shine like a halo against the fog.

”Dude,” Kyle said, his breath puffing out in a little cloud. Stan was transfixed by the way the smoke left the redhead’s mouth.

With a crooked grin, Kyle swung himself through the window and onto Stan’s bed with practiced ease, rolling onto his back to show Stan his smile.

Stan grunted as he pushed the window shut, leaning over Kyle to do it. The redhead pushed himself up to settle his head in Stan’s lap, prompting Stan to wake up more to fully enjoy this.

”Your window was locked,” Kyle said accusingly.

Stan shushed him, bringing a finger to his mouth. Then he said, “Yeah, I know. I’m tired of Cartman fucking with me in my sleep.” He paused, then added “Sorry.” as an afterthought.

Kyle shrugged, reaching his hand back to lace fingers with Stan. Stan frowned, confused, his heart doing a little thump.

”It’s Christmas Eve,” Stan said, “Why are you here?” 

“Techincally,” Kyle said with a little shrug, “it’s Christmas morning.” He pointed to the clock. It read 3:43 in blinking red numbers.

”You’re conspiring with him?” Stan’s eyes narrowed.

”Who, the alarm clock?” Kyle mused. Stan took a deep breath, looking at Kyle - really looking at him - by the lights of the golden Christmas lights outside.

He gave a little sigh, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile.  _God,_ he could not get over Kyle. He seemed to get more beautifully heart-trapping every time Stan saw him. Which was a lot.

A strong urge took hold of his body, and before he knew what he was doing, Stan leaned down to give Kyle a lingering kiss, chaste and soft, barely a peck. A long peck, but a peck. He had really, really wanted to do that - had for a long time, actually - and if he got a bad reaction, Stan could say he was sleepy. Or something.

Stan’s eyes fluttered close, his heart straining against his chest as the kiss lingered. When he pulled away, it was with a contented sigh, and he leaned against his heardboard, tired, relaxed.

Kyle’s head was still in his lap, and the boy was completely still.

”Stan?” He finally whispered.

”Yeah?” 

“What was that?” Kyle sounded scared, his voice tiny. “Are you drunk?”

Stan laughed, lips tugging up into a smile. He noticed that Kyle hadn’t let go of his hand. “No, dude,” He chuckled, “I just woke up.”

”Then why’d you do that?”

Stan shrugged. “I wanted to.”

A moment of silence passed. Then another. Then the heat in Stan’s lap lifted and pulled away, the fingers entwined with his vanishing. Stan sat up and opened his eyes, confused, ready to say something. 

He sucked in his breath, eyes widening slightly. Kyle’s face was barely an inch from him. It would take the softest push for their lips to meet. 

Stan slowly smiled, threading his hands together in his lap. 

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Stan finally asked, his blue eyes looking calmly into Kyle’s green. So close.

Kyle’s eyes widened, and he pulled away an inch or so. “Cuz I-“ his face flushed a light red, and his gaze flicked down at Stan’s lap. “Cuz I wanted you to, too.” He whispered.

Stan nodded, happy with this answer. For now, at least. He lifted a hand and cupped Kyle’s chin, closing that gap and diving headfirst into another kiss. 

At first, Kyle was still, but then he started responding to Stan, and they created a steady rhythm. 

Kyle didn’t resist when Stan tugged on him, pulling the redhead gently into Stan’s lap. Stan was sitting Indian style, now with Kyle between his legs. Kyle’s legs wrapped around Stan’s waist and he responded in tune, trailing his teeth on Kyle’s lower lip, then over that with his tongue, asking for entry. When Kyle granted it they both seemed to let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Stan lost himself to the heat in his chest and the warmth of the boy in his arms, and when he pulled out of this trance, he had his arms around Kyle’s waist, Kyle’s hands behind his neck, their foreheads against the other’s, breathing hard from their kiss. 

Stan smiled, then kissed the tip of Kyle’s nose, acting as his body wanted him to, with almost no filter. Kyle was so red, his face rivaled his hair.

”Are you okay?” Stan whispered with a little laugh, his blue eyes dancing with the light of the golden Christmas lights outside. 

Kyle made an “mmm” sound and ducked his head, burying his face in Stan’s chest. Stan was surprised at the heavy wave of affection that surged like a storm wall in his chest, tossing everything else aside. 

He put his face in Kyle’s hair, inhaling deeply. 

“Don’t break my heart,” Kyle said suddenly. His voice was so tiny.

Stan smiled, his eyes closed, pulling Kyle a little tighter. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

Kyle started laughing, then he pushed his face up, tilting his head to catch the laughter spilling out of Stan’s mouth with his lips. Stan was surprised to see Kyle’s eyelashes wet with brimming tears. 

When they pulled away, equally breathless, Stan was smiling for a fool. He lifted a hand to lay on Kyle’s cheek, rubbing his splay of rusty freckles slowly. “Am I dreaming?”

Kyle giggled, leaning into Stan’s hand. “I don’t think so. Should I bite you?”  He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, but his eyes were dark.

Stan’s hand stilled, and he swallowed, hard.

His eyes must have been huge, because Kyle pushed him playfully, flushing red. “I’m just kidding! Jeez, chill.”

Stan shifted around, stretching out his legs and and tugging Kyle down next to him. After a few wordless minutes, they were both under the covers, facing each other. Stan had his arm around Kyle’s waist, and they were nose to nose. 

“Are we, like...” Kyle trailed off, looking embarassed.

“Like what?” 

Kyle looked down at Stan’s nose, apparently very interested in it. He was dodging eye contact, and Stan was not for it. 

“Dude.” Stan sighed.

“Official? Are we official?” Kyle blurted, stubbornly locking eyes with Stan.

Stan smiled. “We can be.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, vexed. “What does that mean?” 

“Kyle, will you go out with me?”

Kyle flushed a deep red, eyes widening. “Oh. My god.”

“Is that a no?” Stan asked with a pout, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

“Dude! Yes!”

“Yes it’s a no, or yes you’ll go out with me?” 

“Ugh, you-” Kyle surged forward into a clumsy kiss, eyes pinching shut. 

Stan broke into a grin, catching Kyle’s momentum smoothly into a calmer rythm. 

They broke apart, and Stan glanced up at the alarm clock. It was almost 4:40. 

“Dude!” He whispered. “I have to go to sleep. It’s Christmas tomorrow!”

”Not for me,” Kyle countered, but he seemed content enough to curl up against Stan’s chest and drift off with the noirette’s heartbeat against his ear. Stan was warm, inside and out, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

Best Christmas ever. 


	6. Dude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short but I really wanted to write it  
> (theyre like 11 or smth in this)

The pale lavender light of dusk bathed over Kyle's gray carpet.

Stan found himself boredly transfixed by the dust particles swimming in the light. He waved a hand through it, and a current opened, dust channeling out of the light and out of Stan's sight. There was so  _much._ Where the hell did it come from?

His gaze slid to Kyle, laying so close that Stan could feel his body's warmth, also in a sort of dust-induced haze. 

"Dude," Stan said. Kyle jumped slightly, turning his head to look at Stan.

"What?"

"We're dating, right?" 

Kyle seemed taken aback, his brows furrowing. "What?"

"Like," Stan hesitated, trying to grasp at the concept. "you're my boyfriend, right?"

Kyle scoffed, rolling onto his back, his hands pillowing under his head. "Obviously, dude," He said in a tone that said the topic was settled.

Stan didn't want to argue, and he wouldn't anyways, satisfied with his answer. He lay on his side, putting his hands under the side of his face. He was content to look at Kyle, discovering that the redhead was  _much_ more interesting than some particles of dust. "'Kay. So, hypothetically, I can kiss you, if I wanted to?"

"Dude," Kyle pulled himself up into a sit. Stan adjusted himself to lean on his elbows but stayed down. "Consent." 

"Okay," Stan said slowly, raising his eyebrows at Kyle. "Hypothetically, if I had your  _consent,_ could I kiss you?"

Kyle suffered a sigh, eliciting a somewhat cocky grin from Stan. "Hypothetically." Kyle said, putting careful emphasis on the word, "..yes."

"'Kay." Stan said, laying back down on his hands. 

Kyle was still sitting up, staring at Stan, looking confused.

A minute must have passed before he spoke. He sounded both confused and offended when he said, "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

"Nah." Stan said, peeking an eye open to grin at Kyle's expression. "Consent, dude." 

Kyle floundered, lips parted. He managed to hold himself back for  _one_ Mississippi,  _two_ Missi - "Stan!" He said loudly, in an exasperated tone. "Jesus!"

Stan pulled himself up, sitting Indian style. He locked eyes with Kyle, expression grave. "Kyle Broflovski," He said in a serious voice, "Will you bestow upon me the explicit honor of your consent?"

The redhead stilled, then burst into laughter. Stan was close behind, unable to help himself. When the laughter finally died down, Stan leaned forward swiftly and planted a chaste kiss on Kyle's lips. It barely lasted a second, and Stan had a cheeky smile when he pulled away.

Kyle was bright red, and he had a goofy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're an asshole," He managed.

"Yes," Stan said, "but guess who's asshole I am?"

Kyle groaned, covering his face. "That was awful."

"Thank you, thank you," Stan said gallantly. "I try."

"I'm glad you're my asshole," Kyle blurted, peeking at Stan between his fingers. "Like - I'm - Oh God, that came out wrong, please ignore me."

Stan's smile widened. "No, no," He laughed, "I'm glad too."


	7. Minecraft Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk where this came from so don’t ask me, I just wanted the boys playin mc

Kyle had finally lapsed into that feeling of calm that ensued from only soft music and peaceful gameplay for an hour or two when his phone dinged loudly and he jumped, falling backwards from his chair and letting out a colorful string of curses. 

“Man, are you okay? Scared the shit out of me.” Kyle’s headphones said.

Kyle sighed, still wincing from his fall. He stood and righted the desk chair, grabbing his headphones and pulling them back on. “My phone scared me and I fell out of my chair. ‘M fine.” He said, thinking,  _you don’t sound very scared._

Feeling twinges of annoyance in his chest, Kyle reached over and snatched up his phone, reading the screen.

**Message from ssstaaaaaaan**

**Swipe to open**

”Shit.” He said softly. With a sigh, he pressed his thumb against the phone’s home button and it clicked open. 

The text simply read: wyd

”So who’s the perpetrator?”

”It’s Stan.” Kyle drummed his nails against the desk. 

“Mm. Figures.”

Kyle merely sighed out a ‘yep’. His hands had pulled away from the keyboard in favor of hovering over the phone uncertainly as he wondered what to say.

”Where are you? You expect me to build this shit by myself?”

”Tweek, calm the fuck down, I just gotta reply.”

”Okay, okay, I’m calm, Jesus.”

Eventually Kyle responded: mc w tweek

He put the phone down and slid it away from him, setting his hands back on the WASD keys and poring his attention into the screen. 

“Are you still in the fucking Nether?” 

“Yes! Building the Nether hub, like we planned?”

Kyle clicked his tongue. “Shit, I forgot about that.”

”Clearly. Can we hurry this up before Craig and Butters get here? I kinda told them it’s already done.” To his credit, the blonde did sound a little sheepish. 

”Tweek! Seriously?” Kyle exclaimed. He lost Tweek’s next response, because his phone dinged and Kyle reached for it instantly, tuning out the blonde as he turned over his attention again.

**ssstaaaaaaan: you still play with him?**

Kyle sighed through his nose, fingers already typing out his response. 

**ky: yeah dude**

**ky: is that ok? lol**

**ssstaaaaaaan: broski i didn’t say it wasn’t, just curious, isn’t he like spazzy**

**ky: not really**

**ky: not when we play**

”Are you even listening?” 

Kyle lifted his head, genuinely surprised to hear Tweek’s voice. “Huh?”

Tweek sighed through the headphones. “Okay, I said you need to grab all the red dye before you come through. I’m almost out of stained panes.”

”Kay.”

**ssstaaaaaaan: really? surprising**

**ky: no, remember how he used to play with legos and get all chilled out? it’s basically the same concept**

**ky: you should see the shit he builds, its fkin amazing lmao**

**ky: giving grian and all them a run for their money**

It took Stan a minute to reply to this, through he read it as soon as Kyle hit send, leaving Kyle mildly confused about it. 

**ssstaaaaaaan: cool**

Kyle squinted at the phone. What’s his problem? He thought. Shrugging, he put it down again, leaving the conversation at a wall. Stan didn’t text again in the next two hours that it took Kyle and Tweek to finish the nether hub, or the following one and a half that Kyle, Butters, and Craig took turns farming blazes after Tweek left. 

Long after Kyle forgot about it, the phone dinged again, making Kyle jump- though only a bit in his chair, not nearly so much as last time. 

**ssstaaaaaaan: you still play on that same server?**

**ky: ye**

**ssstaaaaaaan: im getting on hollup**

Kyle frowned at the screen. What the shit? Stan hadn’t shown interest in MC since the murder porn shit years ago. 

“Hey guys, Stan’s getting on.”

”What the fuck? Why?” Came Craig’s immediate reply.

”I don’t know, he just messaged me that he’s getting on.”

”That’s great,” Butters said, ever brightly. “Maybe he can help us.”

Craig snorted. “He hasn’t played in so long he probably forgot how.” 

Kyle wandered away, towards the portal, planning to meet Stan at spawn. Butters and Craig’s conversation faded and cut off when Kyle popped into the overworld, thanks to the mumble plugin.

It only took a minute to walk through the quartz walkways, flowery gardens, and intricately designed houses of Tweek’s district (which is where the nether portal was) to get to spawn, and the message for Stan’s arrival had already shown and faded from chat by the time Kyle got there. 

“Oh shit it’s Kyle,” Stan said, character watching Kyle approach. He sounded like he was talking to himself. 

“I can hear you, asshat.”

”Jesus! You still use mumble.”

Kyle was torn between feeling amused or annoyed. “Why’d you join the mumble bc if you didn’t know?” 

He practically felt Stan’s shrug. “I don’t know. Just curious. I guess.”

His character turned in a slow circle. “Things changed around here. This isn’t the spawn I remember.”

”No, we moved it. The old one is a couple hundred blocks away. We wanted space to build in the new updates and stuff.” Kyle explained. He was still, both hands pulled away to tap at his desk. 

“Oh. Okay.”

The silence reigned for about a minute before Kyle shattered it. “Dude, why are you here? You haven’t played Minecraft in years. You told me it’s not interesting anymore.”

Stan was quiet. “Uh... I don’t really know. Listen, are you free tomorrow?”

”Tomorrow?” Kyle repeated, baffled. Tomorrow was Friday. Of course he was ‘free’. “Yes?”

”Kay, do you wanna go out?”

”Go out?”

”On a date.”

”A- with you?”

Stan laughed. He actually laughed. “Well, yeah.”

Kyle’s mouth opened then closed. He was dumbfounded. “Where is this coming from?”

”Well, I dunno. I was just thinking a lot. Minecraft isn’t really interesting anymore. But you are.”

”You’re interested in me?”

”Don’t sound so surprised. You’re pretty interesting, yknow.”

”I’m- okay, wait. I need to talk to you-“ (“We are talking”) “in person. I’ll be over in ten.”

Kyle shut down the computer, pushing away from his desk. 

Stan read the chat message with a smile, laptop resting across his lap. 

That actually went kind of well.

 

**kylezyb has left the game.**


End file.
